


Your Brother in Solitude

by 37h4n0l



Category: 91 Days (Anime)
Genre: M/M, almost pwp, post-ep 7
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-25
Updated: 2016-08-25
Packaged: 2018-08-10 21:35:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7861951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/37h4n0l/pseuds/37h4n0l
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frate is dead, but that doesn't mean Nero doesn't have a brother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Brother in Solitude

**Author's Note:**

> No, I'm not using it as a kink, before you get your hopes high. 
> 
> (Pre-proofreading version, as always.)

Nero stares out the window. He’s not normally one to do this, but then again, not every day is there such a bitter confusion in his head. The rain clatters against the glass surface and the outside lighting makes it impossible to determine the time, due to the clouds that obscure the sun. It’s also the only source of illumination for the small room he’s sitting in, giving it a dusk-like atmosphere with the minuscule shadows of raindrops projecting on the floor. 

 

There are two beds in the room; one for Nero, and one for his brother. 

 

Which is strange, because the person he would instantly associate with that word is Frate, someone who - given the latest events - wouldn’t even think of sharing a room with him. Looks like he has to do a harder job in his mind to replace that sickly, sleep-deprived face with Avilio’s. It was a simple sentence from him, almost like an order: “ _ Starting today, I’ll be your brother _ ”, and Nero felt the irresistible charm to abide by it. He feels it even now. 

 

He’s stuck in that moment, as if time had stopped during that scene for his consciousness, and his body was the only thing moving forward in chronology. Avilio’s hand is still on his shoulder and he’s repeating those words over and over again. 

 

Frate is dead. His childhood memories of inviting him to play, teasing and mocking him but also having a lot of carefree fun, are gone. Or, rather, Nero would  _ want _ them gone to be able to withstand these hours.  _ He’s dead _ . Not only is he, but his dear brother was the one who killed him. He disappointed Fio, disrupted their family and further complicated his own standing in the powerplay of the mafia, but he didn’t have a choice, did he?

 

A small part of him wishes it was  _ him _ lacking ammunition and Frate killing him. 

 

The door clicks and Nero already knows who it is, just by the light footsteps. He turns around and confirms that it’s indeed Avilio who’s taking off his cap and coat, throwing them on a chair. 

 

“It’s strange for you not to get over this.” It’s one of those rare moments when Avilio is the first one to comment instead of staying silent. “Were you two this close?”

 

The Vanetti doesn’t divert his gaze for a few seconds, immersed in his thoughts, then snickers weakly.

 

“I know it didn’t look like it from the outside, but yes, pretty close, I’d say.”

 

“You believe family is the most important, after all, don’t you?” Nero feels a hand on his shoulder, converging with the one in his imagination. He turns towards Avilio who’s standing next to the bed he’s sitting on, smiling calmly. He can’t help but feel unsettled by that expression, so unaffected despite the situation. 

 

“But it’s alright,” the younger man speaks again “I’ll be sure to make up for it. I won’t let anyone kill you in my presence.”

 

There’s another slight chuckle coming from Nero as the other slowly starts moving his hand. Along with his musings, that hand felt incredibly heavy on him; he’s glad Avilio is planning to remove it so it can cease to haunt him with the moments directly after Frate’s death. But he soon finds out that he’s misinterpreting the gesture. His partner in crime brushes up on his shoulder, then down, then up again, slowly, and he would almost find it soothing if it weren’t  _ so damn suspicious _ . 

 

But Avilio always seems to know what’s best for him and do just that. It’s been like that since the beginning, after all. He has no reason not to trust him. Admittedly, his companion looks sneaky and mysterious from the outside, but Nero just  _ knows _ how he really is, and no one else ever will, because Avilio is his right-hand man and  _ his  _ only. 

 

“This is embarrassing to admit,” Nero sighs, “But I’ve never felt this lonely in my life. Maybe it’s just all dawning on me now.”

 

Avilio’s strokes get more and more delicate, and at once, his fingers slide past the other man’s shirt collar, coming into contact with bare skin. It sends a shiver down the Vanetti’s spine. 

 

“You won’t be lonely anymore. Told you, I can be your brother.” 

 

He’s leaning closer and Nero swallows uncomfortably. The air feels suffocating. Avilio abandons all subtlety as he runs his hand along his jaw, the side of his face and his hair. 

 

“Or, I can be more. If you want me to.”

 

The older man freezes for a second. Oh, he had thought about this, doubtless. It feels so incredibly wrong, especially after Avilio’s ambiguous intentions to replace Frate, but hypnotized by that voice, he can’t refuse. So, he stands up abruptly, taking one of Avilio’s shoulders and lessening the distance between them inch by inch. He can feel him smirk into the kiss and Nero tries his best to deepen it, invade his mouth and take over. He’s suddenly aware of a strong need hitting him as he tightens the clutch of his hand, almost hurting the other. 

 

It’s a tragical desperation on Vanetti’s part, an emotion entirely alien to him. He’s never felt the void in his chest to this extent, not even when Vanno died. But Avilio can make it go away, his smile with the half-lidded, golden eyes can make it go away, his nibbling on Nero’s lower lip can make it go away. He’s always been there with him, like a sort of secret guardian angel. 

 

“This is wrong” Nero voices his concern, easing his partner onto the bed nonetheless. 

 

“It’s not wrong to need comfort after someone important to you dies.” Avilio’s voice is low and calming; this gentleness is uncharacteristic of his usual apathy. The other unbuttons his shirt, kissing him again.

 

“Yes, but this soon? When you just declared yourself my brother?” Nero smiles bitterly, sitting up and taking a better look at his new ‘sibling’ with his hand still on the protruding ribs. Avilio looks almost mischevious as he lies on his back, smooth torso partially exposed, hair sprawled across the pillow and those intimidating eyes looking right at him. 

 

“Oh, come on. You’ve been wanting this for some time now.” 

 

Nero isn’t sure whether he wanted it or not, but he can’t call those words a lie, especially considering how much he  _ wants it now _ . Avilio could rewrite history and he wouldn’t mind one bit. He removes his vest and shirt slowly, as if the movements somehow had an undertone of sadness to them. The Vanetti is more demotivated than ever, and his partner notices.

 

“Here, Nero” Avilio whispers, “Kiss me. I’m your family now.”

 

And Nero does as he’s told, their tongues entangling much more tamely than they would’ve if this happened in any other situation. He feels himself sinking lower into emotional exhaustion and farther from giving a damn about anything with every command. Avilio’s baritone, raspy from the continuous smoking, asks him to prepare him, handing him a bottle of lotion. Nero can’t imagine why he would have lubrificant right at his bedside so conveniently, or carry around something like that in general, but he slides over this detail. 

 

“It’s alright now” he says shortly after, while the older man’s fingers are still stretching him. It’s not clear whether he’s referring to sex or trying to soothe Nero.

 

“Are you sure?” The other asks, palming his own cock with his other hand and spreading liquid all over it in the meanwhile.

 

“You deserve this, after today.”

 

Nero slides into him carefully and Avilio moans in a way that almost sounds deliberate. As if everything they’ve done together so far had culminated in this. As if this scenario was something mundane, even though Nero was thoroughly convinced that Avilio didn’t like him, and that he, himself didn’t like men. He feels his companion latch his arms around his neck, urging him to move with that mesmerizing smile on his face. He’s tight around Nero’s cock and every single sensation connected to the act, every touch and smell and sound is perfect. 

 

The Vanetti’s peace of mind comes back bit by bit as he enters Avilio again and again. Nero listens to the - even louder - sounds he makes when he touches him, transfixed. When he looks at Avilio, he sees something precious; the only precious thing left, in fact. And this pleasure, this comfort - they’re all Avilio’s doing. Only his.

 

“I love you” Nero says between two thrusts, leaning down and holding the other’s body close to his, “I love you so much.”

 

Avilio pulls him in for one more kiss, interrupting it shortly with a whine when the other man’s penis starts penetrating him deeper, hitting a better spot. The muscles in his entire body tighten up a second later, including his arms’ grip on Nero, and he comes, almost simultaneously with him. 

 

The only remaining biological Vanetti brother is sprawled on the bed just a few minutes later, his companion sitting on the edge, smoking a cigarette after having washed himself. He turns around and looks at Nero thoughtfully, after hearing a quiet sniff.

 

“Are you crying?”

 

“My little brother just died, what kind of expression do you want me to make?” His words come out high-pitched and slightly muddled up.

 

“Do your best to make sure something like this doesn’t happen next time” Avilio says stoically. 

 

“What are you talking about?” Nero bursts out “He was the only brother I-  _ oh _ .” He quiets down at the realization.

 

Avilio crawls closer until he’s in the other’s lap, facing him. He takes the cigarette out of his mouth and places it between Nero’s lips. The latter takes a long sip from it, exhaling the smoke slowly between them. He caresses the other’s face.

 

“You’re right, I’ll protect you the way you’ll protect me. As long as we’re together, neither of us will die.”

 

Avilio chuckles.

  
“Yes, neither of us.”


End file.
